LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



016 103 430 7 






A DICKENS 
REVIVAL 



By 

EMA SUCKOW HUNTING 



LEBANON. OHIO 

MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers 

1914 






Copyright, 1914, 
By March Beothees. 



AUG -6 i 9.11/ 

iClD 37761 

T.MP92-009159 



Foreword 

There have been many attempts to dramatize 
Dickens ; and in spite of the almost universal fail- 
ure of these attempts, the novels and tales of this 
most dramatic of story tellers seem still to offer 
irresistible temptation to writer folk. Indeed, the 
characters which throng the pages of his books seem 
created expressly for the theatre, so vivid are they, 
so individual yet so typical ; and the stories abound 
in situations of liumor and pathos and tragedy rich 
in dramatic possibilities. Yet there has never been 
a really successful dramatization of Dickens. 

In this little drama, "A Dickens Revival", there 
has been no attempt to succeed where so many have 
failed. It is not a dramatization ; such plot as there 
is, is original and serves merely to bring together 
some forty of the best loved characters of the Dick- 
ens world. The aim has been to make and keep 
them really Dickens people, though presented in 
situations and relations foreign to the novels in 



Foreword 



which they are found ; and in tliis I feel that I 
may claim some measure of success. Necessarily 
many, many of the choicest spirits are left out and 
the more serious elements of character are of course 
not presented ; yet the people of this play are Dick- 
ens people, and as such will find, I feel sure, a 
welcome and appreciation among Dickens lovers, and 
may even serve to introduce into the delights of 
Dickens fellowship some few of those who have 
held aloof, appalled by the length and number of 
his works. 

Ema Suckow Hunting. 
January, 1914. 



A Dickens Revival 

By 

EMA SUCKOW HUNTING 



CHARACTERS 

Miss Brownley, the librarian 

A typical custodian of the public reading matter, in plain 
and tasteful business dress. 

Mrs. Jarley 

A Christian lady, stout and comfortable to look upon, 
who wears a large bonnet, trembling with bows. 

Mr. Pickwick 

A rubicund little gentleman, with a bald head and 
circular spectacles, wearing a coat with tails, and tights 
and gaiters. He carries a notebook and pencil. 

Sam Weller 

Habited in a coarse striped waistcoat, with black calico 
sleeves and blue glass buttons; drab breeches and leg- 
gings. A bright red handkerchief is wound in a loose 
and unstudied style around his neck, and an old white 
hat is thrown carelessly on one side of his head. 



Characters 



Mrs. Jelleby 

A pretty, very diminutive, plump woman of thirty or 
forty, with handsome eyes which have a curious habit 
of seeming to look a long ways off. Her dress is care- 
less and disordered. 

Mbs. Nickleby 

A middle-aged lady in mourning, still rather pretty in 
a soft, inconsequent way. 

Mr. Wilfer 

The conventional cherub, rather gray, with signs of 
care in his expression. 

Mrs. Wilfer 

Tall, angular, and stately, her head tied up in a pocket 
handkerchief knotted under her chin, and wearing im- 
pressive gloves. 

Miss Lavinia Wilfer 

Angular like her mother, but snappish where that lady 
is imposing. 

Mr. George Sampson 

A meek youth, and a bashful, who carries a large stick 
with a knob on the end of it, which knob he keeps in 
his mouth, like a stopper, only removing it for purposes 
of speech and nourishment. 

Sairey Gamp 

A fat old woman with a husky voice and a moist eye 
which she has a remarkable power of turning up and 
only showing the white. Having very little neck, it 



Characters 



costs her some touble to look ovei* herself at those with 
whom she talks. She wears a very rusty black gown, 
rather the worse for snuff, and a shawl and bonnet to 
correspond. 

Betsey Prig 

Of the Gamp build, but not so fat; her voice is deeper 
and more like a man's. She has also a beard. 

Mr. Pecksniff 

A moral man. His very throat is moral, and you see 
a good deal of it over a very low fence of white cravat 
— a valley between two jutting heights of collar. His 
hair, all brushed off his forehead, stands bolt upright. 
His person is sleek. He wears a plain black suit and 
a dangling eyeglass. 

Charity Pecksniff 

Rather angular and sedate, the complement of her 
sister. 

Mercy Pecksniff 

The most arch and al the same time the most artless 
creature, too fresh and guileless to wear combs in her 
hair, or to turn it up, or to frizzle it, or to braid it. 
She wears it in a crop, a loosely flowing crop, which 
has so many rows of curls in it that the top row is only 
one curl. Moderately buxom is her shape, yet quite 
womanly, too; but she wears a girlish pinafore, and 
how charming it is! 

Mrs. Perrybingle 

Fair and young, though somewhat of what is called the 
dumpling shape; with a little figure and a delicate 
head and a very doll of a baby. 



Characters 



Tilly Slowboy 

Of spare and straight shape, so that her garments seem 
to be in constant danger of slipping off those sharp 
pegs, her shoulders. Her costume is remarkable for its 
partial development of a flannel vestment of a singular 
structure, also for affording glimpses, in the region of 
the back, of a pair of stays in color a dark green. She 
is in a continual state of gaping admiration, which 
leads to a propensity for knocking the baby's head into 
everything w^ithin reach. 

Mr. Boffin 

A broad, round-shouldered, one-sided old fellow, dressed 
in a pea overcoat and carrying a large stick. He wears 
thick shoes and thick leather gaiters and gloves. He 
has bright, eager grey eyes under ragged eyebrows and 
a broad-brimmed hat. 

Mrs. Boffin 

A stout lady of a rubicund and cheerful aspect, dressed 
in a low evening dress of sable satin and a large black 
velvet hat and feathers. 

Silas Wegg 

A knotty, close-grained individual, seemingly as wooden 
as his leg. 

Jenny Wren 

A dwarf, half child, half woman, with a sharp little 
face, shrewd beyond its years, and beautiful golden 
hair. She walks with a crutch, but nimbly. 

Dolly Varden 

A bright, fresh, coquettish girl, with a buxom figure^ 



Characters 



and a rosy face lighted up by a lovely pair of sparkling 
eyes. She wears a cherry-colored mantle and ribbons, 
and the most devastating hat that ever malicious mil- 
liner concocted for the undoing of mortal man. 

Susan Nipper 

A short, brown, womanly girl, with a little snub nose, 
black eyes like jet beads, and a peculiarly sharp and 
biting manner. 

Mr. Toots 

A wealthy young gentleman with a swollen nose and 
excessively large head, a deep voice, sheepish manner, 
and carefully cultivated, immature whiskers. His cos- 
tume is in the extreme of tightness as to pantaloons, 
and gorgeousness as to waistcoat and cravat. 

David Copperfield 

A quiet, well-manned young man, with a studious face. 

Dora 

A diminutive beauty, with a delightful voice and art- 
less, coaxing ways. She has quantities of curls, and 
wears a white chip bonnet and a dress of celestial blue. 

Uriah Heep 

A red-haired youth with a cadaverous face. He is high- 
shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a 
white wisp of neckcloth; buttoned up to the throat; 
and he perpetually rubs together his long, thin, bony 
hands. 

Pegotty 

A gii'l with no shape at all, and eyes so dark they 
seem to darken all that part of her face, and with 



10 Characters 



cheeks and arms so hard and red that the birds might 
peck them in preference to apples. 

Barkis 

A stolid man, with a large head, which he carries with 
an habitual droop. 

Trabdles 

A very nervous young man in a continual state of 
surprise, which makes his hair stand up very straight, 
and his eyes almost pop from his head. 

Mr. Micawbeb 

A stoutish, middle-aged man in a brown surtout and 
black tights and boots, with no more hair upon his 
head — a very large one and very shining — than there 
is upon an egg. His clothes are shabby, but his shirt 
collar is imposing. He carries a jaunty sort of stick 
with a large pair of rusty tassels; and a quizzing glass 
hangs outside his coat, purely for ornament. 

Mrs. Micawber 

A thin and faded lady, not at all young, with the 
marks of gentility in voice and manner. 



The Children. 

Smike 

Tall, thin, in very ragged clothes. 

Paul Dombey 

A pretty little fellow about five years old, with fair 
hair. 



Characters 1 1 



FlX)BENCE DOMBEY 

A quiet, dark-eyed girl of about eleven, with long 
curls and a black dresa. 

Tiny Tim 

A very mite of a child, with a little crutch and a pale, 
liappy face. 

Sloppy 

Too mucli of him longwise, too little of him broadwise, 
and too many sharp points of him anglewise; one of 
those shambling male creatures born to be indiscreetly, 
candid in the revelation of buttons, and with a sur- 
prising habit of throwing back his head and laughing 
immoderately. 

The Minders 

Two plump tots, boy and girl, in gingham aprons. 

Oliver Twist 

A lad of eight or nine, in trousers too long for him 
and coat too short for him, and both very ragged. 

Little Em'ly 

A beautiful little blue-eyed girl with a white frock 



Jo 



and a necklace of blue beads. 



Very muddy, very hoarse, very ragged, with a big, 
round broom for street sweeping. 



Charley 

A very little girl, childish in figure, wearing a womanly 
sort of bonnet much too large for her and wiping her 
bare arms on her apron. 



12 Characters 



Tom 

A mite of a boy. 

Emma 

A heavy baby of eighteen months. 

A Boy 

A very ordinary boy of the present time, perhaps six- 
teen years of age, in a waterproof coat and hat. 



[The costumes may best be determined upon hy 
consulting an edition of Dickens' Works which con- 
tavns the original, or at any rate, early illustrations; 
and a part of the pleasure of presenting this little 
fantasy will be found in collecting tlie old-fashioned 
garments which any community can furnish in un- 
expected number and variety. The descriptions 
given of the characters have been adapted for the 
most part from the books themselves, thus giving 
the idea of each which the author himself had vn 
mind. The entertainment may be either shortened 
or lengthened by adding to or omitting any char- 
acters as desired. As given in the text, it will 
play about an hour, including the prologue, and 
calls for forty-six characters, young and old. J 



The Prologue 

To Be Spoken Before the Play Begins. 

"Of the making of books there is no end ;" but 
of the reading of some books — good books — there is 
an untimely end. We speak of deathless works of 
art, of immortal pieces of writing; yet a book is 
really dead when it is no longer read. The great- 
est book can live only in the brain and heart of a 
reader. 

But, unfortunately, there are fashions in books 
as there are fashions in manners, morals and clothes ; 
and the story which one day set half the world 
laughing and crying and thrilling in sympathy, the 
next day is passed over for a "best seller" which in 
its turn is forgotten. We would not quarrel with 
this order of things which makes for progress ; but 
we do believe that it is only in outer expression that 
the great truths of human character and needs 
change, and that a master mind which comprehends 
these truths has a message for all times, regardless 
of modes of expression. 



14 Prologue 

Such a mind had Charles Dickens ; and tonight we 
wish to take you into the dream-world which that 
mind created — a di"eam-world peopled with dream- 
folk, but so real, so true, so human, and so amusing 
that they seem more material than flesh and blood 
itself. Here, you will say, is life itself ; and here, 
it may be, you will see your very neighbor, yes, your 
very self, crystal-clear, in every light and shade 
of truth. 

For some of 3'ou this will be a meeting of old and 
tried friends ; for the others, v/e trust it will prove 
the beginning of a happy companionship. For all, 
it must shed a new light on the dark riddle of 
human nature; for in this dream-world you will 
find every fault, every virtue, every vice, every 
hidden meanness, every secret nobility, every foible 
and hypocrisy, so skillfully set forth, with such 
pitiless truth but such tender understanding, that 
the eyes are cleared perforce, and the world of 
every day becomes a saner, cheerier place, with more 
good natured laughter and fewer bitter tears. 

Dear friends, it is with real pleasure that we 
welcome you into the fellowship of the dream-world 
of Dickens ; and we beg your kindly interest in 
our simple play, "A Dickens Revival." 



A Dickens Revival 

A Fantasy in One Act and Three Scenes 



SCENE 1. 



\nie receiving room of a public library. The 
loan desk is at the right, well down, with the files, 
books, rubber stamps, etc., peculiar to library work 
upon it. A door at the extreme back left-hand 
corner is marked plainly "STACK ROOM." There 
may be book cases etc., to add to the effect. Miss 
Brownley is discovered at her desk, reading, her 
cheek on her hand.^ 

Miss Brownley [Laying down her book, yawn- 
ing^ : Oh — Oh ! I'm tired ! Rain, rain, rain, and not 
a soul in the library for hours, 

\^She pushes away her book.^ Books — I'm sick 
of them ! Dead, black and white, lifeless things ! 
The whole libraryful is not worth a single con- 
versation with a real live human ! 



16 A Dickens Revival 

l^She rises, crosses to the clock. "[ Eight o'clock! 
Another hour. And how still it is here — almost as 
if the very books were asleep and dreaming on 
their shelves — goodness, I musn't get nervous ! 

\^She opens the stack room door, peers inside.^ 
Nobody there, of course. Just the books, and they 
can't hurt anyone. Poor things — how quiet they 
are, and how helpless, unless some one opens and 
reads them. But tonight I wish they were people — 
I've a notion to close up and go home! There won't 
be any one in 

\_She goes back to her desk.^ Still, If there 
should be — and the Carnegie Free Public Library 
should be closed to a tax-payer, what a scandal it 
would be ! 0-oh I 

[Yaximing, she resumes her seat.^ Anyhow, a 
nap v/ill do no harm, and I'm bound to waken if 
anyone comes in — 0-o-h, I'm so s-sleepy — 

l^Her head sinks onto her folded arms. Once 
she sits erect, rubs her eyes, tries to rouse herself, 
but is overtaken with a third yawn, and giving it 
up, puts her head down and settles herself for thirty 
wmks. After a moment the curtain falls.] 



A Dickens Revival 17 



SCENE 2. 

[^The curiam rises again almost immediately. 
The scene is the same. Miss Brownley, apparently 
•wide awake, sits at her desk, filling in cards. The 
stack room door opens a crack, and Mrs. Jarley 
peeps in, turns and motions for the others to wait, 
and then advances, smiling and mincing, into the 
center of the stage.^ 

Mrs. Jarley: I wish you good evening, ma'am! 
Miss Brownley [^Rising, astonished'] : Oh — . 

Mrs. Jarley: And I hope I see you well? Miss 
Brownley, the librarian, I believe. 

Miss Brownley: Why — why, dear me? Who 
•^who are you? 

Mrs. Jarley: Ah — when I tell you, you'll be 
surprised, my dear! Tell me — did you ever hear 
of Jarley's wax-works? 

Miss Brownley: Wax-work? 



18 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Jarley : Jarley's, ma'am — Jarley's wax- 
works ! Come — a lady like you not know Jarley's ! 
The genuine and only Jarley — the delight of the 
nobility and gentry — the one stupendous collection 
of real wax-work in the world ! Come, come, ma'am, 
at your age, not know Jarley's ! 

If I had a donkey wot wouldn't go 

To see Mrs. Jarley's wax- work show, 

Do you think I'd acknowledge him? 

No, no, no ! 

Miss Brownley: But — but do you mean — Of 
course I have heard of Mrs. Jarley and the wax- 
work, but — 

Mrs. Jarley : Aha, my dear ! Of course you 
have ! And so I told them ! Leave it, I says, to 
Mrs. Jarley, the one and only collection of life- 
size wax-works on the market! I'll introduce, you, 
I says — I'll show you up — I'll point out your names 
and wirtues — being so used to wax-works. 

Miss Brownley: But — but I don't understand. 
Whom do you wish to introduce .f* 

Mrs. Jarley: Who, ma'am.? Why, the Dick- 
ens people, to be sure. 



A Dickens Revival 19 

Miss Brownley: The Dickens people? 

Mrs. Jarley : Yes, yes ! I confess you surprise 
me, ma'am — I do confess it ! Not know the Dickens 
people ? 

Miss Brownley : Why, of course I know them — 
but I thought — 

Mrs. Jarley : You thought they only lived in 
books ! Ha, ha, I know wot people thinks ! But at 
night, ma'am, when all the doors are closed, and 
all the lights are out — what then, do you think .f* 

Miss Browni^ey: What? 

Mrs. Jarley: Then we comes out — down off 
our shelves, and out of our covers, and stretches of 
ourselves ! And then's when we talk it over. 

Miss Brownley: Talk what over? 

Mrs. Jarley: The way we're neglected and 
passed over and shoved aside. Day after day on 
our shelves, ma'am, without a blessed wolume being 
taken down ! And all around us other books that 
people reads by armfuls. And we, growing old 



20 A Dickens Revival 

and yellow, forgotten in our comers ! David Cop- 
perfield is out now, and out so long a fine is due; 
but the others of us — ah, I tells you what, ma'am, 
it makes me low in my spirits ! Once the delight 
of the world that couldn't wait for us to dry after 
printing and laughed and cried and took on over 
us more than over their own kith and kin — and 
now, passed by and forgotten ! Such is the un- 
fickleness of human nater! 

Miss Brownley: Do you mean that the Dickens 
books are seldom taken out of the library — is that 
the trouble? 

Mes. Jarley: Ah — and trouble enough! But, 
says I, leave it to Mrs. Jarley ! We'll watch our 
chance, says I, and make friends with the librarian, 
for if she knows us she can't help but like us, and 
she'll tell others and so we'll be taken out again 
and not be forgot and wither in our bindings. 
I'll introduce you, I says — leave that to me — as if 
you was wax-works ; and wery good wax-works you 
will make; for though I won't go so far as to say 
that I've ever seen wax- work quite like life, yet 
I've certainly seen some life that was exactly like 
wax- work ! 



A Dickens Revival 21 

Miss Brownley: And are they here now — the 
Dickens people ? 

Mrs. Jarley: Just outside the door, ma'am, 
waiting for me to call them in, if so be you'd like 
to see them. 

Miss Brownley: Oh, yes, yes — by all means. 
Do call them in, Mrs. Jarley. 

Mrs. Jarley : Very well, ma'am ; and as I've 
alwaj's said, I knowed you was a lady. Here they 
come then — one, two, THREE! 

[^She strikes the floor sharply with the pointer 
she carries; and immediately the stack room door 
opens and the Dickens people enter. They are in 
the order in which they are later introduced; and 
they form a long line across the stage, slant-wise.^ 

Mrs Jarley : We are the Dickens people, ma'am, 
and we presents our compliments! [They all bow.] 

Miss Brownley: Oh, how do you do? 

The Dickens People : Pretty well, thank you, 
ma'am, and hope you are the same. 



22 A Dickens Revival 

Miss Bbownley: I'm so glad you came and I 
want to know every one of you. 

Mrs. Jarley: Well, ma'am, if you're ready, 
we'll begin the introducing. 

Miss Brownley: Oh, yes — do tell me who they 
are. 

Mrs. Jarley: We'll start, ma'am, with the 
gentleman on 3'our right, as being handiest. [Indi- 
cating Mr. Pickwick with her cane.^ The first num- 
ber in our collection, ladies and gentlemen — you'll 
excuse me, ma'am, but it comes so natural after 
wax-works — ^the first number of our world-renowned 
aggregation of celebrities is the well-known Mr. 
Pickwick, of immortal glory in consequence of hav- 
ing been sued by a widow and founding a club 
which bears his name. 

Mr. Pickwick [Bustling forward^ : Happy to 
meet you, ma'am, very happy to meet you ! Now, how 
many volumes would you say there might be in this 
library ? 

Miss Brownley: Oh — several thousands. 



A Dickens Revival 23 

Mr. Pickwick : Several thousands ! Bless my 
soul ! And all stacked up in rows. Astonishing ! 
We must put this in the note-book — we positively 
must, Sam ! 

Sam Weller: Right you are, sir, as the gentle- 
man said ven they asked him if he'd have a pint 
o' rum. 

Miss Brownley: Oh, is this Sam Weller-f^ 

Sam Weller: The wery same, ma'am, asking 
your pardon and no offense. 

Miss Brownley: And do you still write valen- 
tines ? 

Sam Wel-ler: Veil, I tell you wot, ma'am, as 
my father says, "Samivel," he says, "Samivel, walen- 
tines is all wery well for them as likes 'em — every- 
body to his taste, Sammy, as the old lady said ven 
she kissed the cow — but as for me — ." 

Mr. Pickwick : Sam ! Hold your tongue. 

Sam Weller : Wery well, sir, the same to you, 
sir, as the — . 



24 A Dickens Revival 

Mr. Pickwick : Sam ! 

Sam Weller: Yes, sir. 

Mr. Pickwick: About this library, Miss Brown- 
ley ; you astonish me ! Thousands of volumes ! And 
can you read them all with equal ease.'' 

Miss Brownley: Why, certainly, Mr. Pickwick. 

Mr. Pickwick : Dear me, you surprise me. 
Most extraordinary thing I ever heard. Wonder- 
ful, really — ^thousands of volumes, and she can read 
them all. Sam, you must remind me to note this 
in my next volume of travels. 

Sam Weller: The more the merrier, sir, as the 
proud father said ven they showed him the tvins. 

Mr. Pickwick : Sam ! 

Sam Weller: Yes, sir.? 

Mr. Pickwick : Have the goodness to reserve 
jour ancedotes until we ask for them. 

Sam Weller: Mum's the word, sir! 



A Dickens Revival 25 

Mrs. Jarley : The next specimen In our inter- 
esting and unexampled collection — wax-works again, 
ma'am — noted as a lover of the heathen and an 
aider and abetter of infidels in general, is Mrs. 
Jelleby. 

Mrs. Jelleby: I'm very glad indeed to have 
the pleasure of meeting you. You find me, as 
usual, very busy, but that you will excuse. I sup- 
pose you are acquainted with the natives of Africa .f* 
I assure you our project at present employs my 
whole time. But I am happy to say it is advancing. 
We hope by this time next year to have a hundred 
and fifty to two hundred healthy families educating 
the natives and cultivating coffee in Borrioboola-Gha 
on the left bank of the Niger. 

Miss Brownley: Dear me, that must be very — 
gratifying. 

Mrs. Jelleby: It IS gratifying. It involves 
the devotion of all my energies, such as they are; 
but that is nothing. 

Mr. Pickwick: Did you say — I BEG your par- 
don — but DID you say Borrioboola-Gha? 



26 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Jelleby: Borrioboola-Gha, on the left 
bank of the Niger. [Hcmd'mg him some tracts.^ 
I should be more than delighted, Mr. Pickwick, if 
you would honor our poor efforts by turning your 
thoughts to Africa. These tracts will explain our 
project. 

Mr. Pickwick : But, madame, the climate — . 

Mrs. Jelleby : Is the best in the world — with 
precaution. 

Mr. Pickwick: Astonishing! And the natives.'* 

Mrs. Jejlle:by: Perfectly harmless — with pre- 
caution. 

Mr. Pickwick: Indeed! But black, I presume.? 

Mrs. Jelleby: Only on the outside. [To Miss 
Brownley, handvng tracts. '\ If you would like to 
look over some remarks on that head and on the 
general subject — . 

Miss Brownley: Thank you. I suppose if you 
devote so much of your time to Africa, you have 
no family of your own? 



A Dickens Revival 27 

Mrs. JelLuEBy: Family? Oh, yes. There are 
— well, the exact number slips my mind, but it is 
quite immaterial. The important fact is that one 
should devote oneself heart and soul to a Mission, 

Miss Brownley: How very modern! And this 
lady, Mrs. Jarley.f* 

Mrs. Jarley: Mrs. Nickleby, ma'am, mother of 
Nicholas and Kate. Mrs. Nickleby — Miss Brown- 
ley. 

Mrs. Nickleby: Oh, how do do. Miss Brownley? 
Brownley — Brownley ! Where did I hear that name 
before? Or perhaps I didn't and it's just the color 
makes me think of christenings. Yes, that must 
be it — brown you know, because I recollect perfectly 
that the day before Nicholas was christened at five 
weeks and three days we took a drive in a hackney 
coach, poor dear jNIr. Nickleby and I though I 
told him I don't know how many times that I knew 
we'd regret the money if we spent it ; but of course 
he wouldn't listen to me, he never did, though I'm 
sure I never let a chance go by to impress it on 
his mind, and that's one comfort — Well, the horse 
was brown; and sure enough, just as I knew he 
would, he dropped dead just around the corner from 



28 A Dickens Revival 

the liouse where the pastry cook accidentallj^ killed 
himself by putting a pistol to his teeth and pulling 
the trigger. But now I come to think of it, I 
don't believe it's that — I believe it must be your 
face. Upon mj'^ word, I'm sure it is, because I 
recollect that when my poor dear husband and I 
came home after we were married that a young lady 
brought me home a white chip morning bonnet and 
she was as like you as two peas. Now what was 
her name? I know it began with B and ended with 
Y — but whether it was Austin — Anyhow, my dear, 
she was j^our express image, though I can't recall 
just this minute whether I ever saw her or not. 

Mr. Pickwick : Remarkable, madame ! 

Mrs. Nickleby: Oh, as to that, sir, far be it 
from me to express an opinion as to my own attain- 
ments though I remember perfect!}^ how my poor 
dear husband used to suffer before we were engaged 
when I used to hate him. Shall I ever forget the 
night I refused to let him carry my sunshade — no, 
of course it couldn't have been a sunshade at night 
— but the principle is the same and it's a mercy 
he didn't emigrate. It A'ery nearly drove him to it. 
And I recollect — . 



A Dickens Revival 29 

Mrs. Jarley: I must say, Mrs. Nickleby, that 
it might be better if you was to try recollecting 
that there are others in this collection to be intro- 
duced and we can't take all night, sunshades or no 
sunshades ! 

Mrs. Nickleby: Well, upon my word! 

Mrs. Jarley: Next in our collection. Miss 
Brownley — and I'm frank to say in many respects 
wax-works is to be preferred to humans ! — let me 
call your attention to a family party complete 
barring six or seven — Mr. R. Wilfer, Mrs. Wilfer, 
Miss Lavinia Wilfer, and Mr. George Sampson. 

Mr. Wilfer : Why, thank you, ma'am, thank 
you. We are very glad to meet you, Miss Brown- 
ley. I — My dear, I am afraid you are not enjoy- 
ing yourself.'' 

Mrs. Wilfer: Why so, R. W. ? I make no 
complaint. Doubtless I am very well. 

Lavinia : You don't soem very brisk. Ma ! 

Mrs. Wilfer: Brisk? Brisk.? Whence the low 
expression ? 



30 A Dickens Revival 

Lavinia: Low or not, Ma, that's as may be. 
But why one should go out in company as if ones 
under petticoat was a backboard, I do NOT see! 

Mrs. Wilfer : Hold ! Peace ! Can it be that 
a child of mine can mention the garment to which 
you have alluded? 

Lavinia : Well, of course as to being a child of 
yours. Ma, that's your fault, not mine ! 

Mrs. Wilfer: Do you speak like that to me? 
Pray do you know what would have become of you 
if I had not bestowed my hand upon R. W., your 
father ? 

Lavinia: No, Ma, I do not; and with the great- 
est respect for your abilities and information, I very 
much doubt whether you do either! 

Mrs. AVilfer: Ingrate! Viper! 

Mr. Sampson \^Removmg his stopperl : I say ! 
You know, ma'am, upon my honor, you mustn't. 
With the highest respect for you, ma'am, upon my 
life, you mustn't. When a man with the feelings 
of a gentleman finds himself engaged to a young 



A Dickens Revival 31 

lady and it comes to vipers, you know ! And after 
all, ma'am, when all's said and done, we know it's 
there ! 

Mrs. Wilfer : We know it's there ! 

Lavinia: Well, really, George, I must say I 
don't understand your allusions ! 

Mr. Sampson : Go it ! Oh, yes, go it. Miss 
Lavinia Wilfer! 

Lavinia : If you mean b}^ "Go it," George 
Sampson, that I shall leave you — . 

Mr. Sampson : Dearest Lavinia, I adore you ! 

Lavinia : Then if you can't do it in a more 
agreeable manner, I wish you wouldn't! \^He ap- 
proaches her ingratiatingly, and she gradually thaws 
until he ventures to slip an arm around her; but 
encou/ntering a large pin, retires and sucks his cane.^ 

Mr. Wilfer: I really am a little afraid, my 
dear, that you are not enjo3ring yourself? 

Mrs. Wilfer: On the contrary, R. W., quite so. 



32 A Dickens Revival 

Sam Weller : And if you're satisfied, I ought 
to be, as the cliambermaid said ven she drank the 
egg cup full of laudunum. 

Mrs. Jaexey: And now, ladies and gentlemen, 
asking your pardon, ma'am, I call your attention 
to two friends tried and true, known wherever sick- 
ness and affliction spreads as Sairey Gamp and 
Betsey Prig. 

Mrs. Gamp: There are some happy creeturs as 
Time runs backards with, and you are one. Miss 
Brownley. Not that he need do anythink but treat 
you in his most owldacious way for years to come, 
for young you are and will be. I says to Mrs. 
Harris only 'tother day — the last Monday evening 
fortnight as ever dawned upon the Piljim's Projiss 
of a mortal wale — I says to Mrs. Harris when she 
says to me, "Years and our trials, Mrs. Gamp, sets 
marks upon us all !" — "Say not the Avords, Mrs Har- 
ris, if you and me is to continue friends, for sich 
is not the case. Miss Brownley," I says, making free 
I confess to use the name, "is one o' them as goes 
against the obserwation straight; and never, Mrs. 
Harris, whilst I've a drop of breath to draw, will 
I set by and not stand up, don't think it!" "I ask 
your pardon, Mrs. Gamp, and I humbly grant your 



A Dickens Revival 33 

grace ; for if ever a woman lived as would gladly 
see her fellow creeturs into fits to serve her friends, 
well do I know that woman's name is Sairey Gamp." 
"Mrs, Harris," I says to her, "if I could afford to 
lay all my fellow creeturs out for nothing, I would 
gladly do it, sich is the love I bear 'em." "Sairey 
Gamp," she sa^^s, "you raly do amaze me !" "Mrs. 
Harris," I says, "why so.'' Give it a name, I beg." 
"Telling the truth then, ma'am and shaming him 
as shall be nameless between us, never did I think 
to see a mortal woman of the female sex so devoted 
to her friends as you be, ma'am, to Betsey Prig !" 

Betsey Prig : Get along with you ! 

Mrs. Gamp: Say not so, Betsey Prig, for well 
you know 'tis true. "Betsey and me, Mrs. Harris," 
I says, "is like two roses on a stalk ; nussing to- 
gether, turn and turn about, one off, one on ; and 
both on us when pressed to reply will always say 
to them as hires us, be they ladies or be they gents, 
'Don't ask me whether I won't take none or whether 
I will ; but leave the bottle q^ the chimley piece 
and let me put my lips to it if I am so dispoged.' " 

Miss Brownley: Very — very creditable, I'm 
sure, Mrs. Gamp. 



34 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Jarley: I now have the honor, friends and 
fellow townsmen, of pointing out to you the wery 
fixedest star in all the galaxy of moral lights, Mr. 
Pecksniff. 

Mr. Pecksniff [^Blcmdly advancing, a daughter 
on either arm] : My excellent friend, I beg — no 
flattery ! Modesty — come forward, my dears ! — 
modesty is as some one has so beautifully said the 
jewel upon the ear of night; the lily of the valley; 
woman's crowning glory ; and — . 

Mercy \_Shaking her curlsl : Oh my good gra- 
cious, pa, you mean hair! 

Charity : Silly Merry ! Always thinking of 
your curls ! 

Mercy: La, Cherry, what a proper girl you 
are! Oh, you naughty, thoughtful, prudent thing! 

Mr. Pecksniff: Playful warblers 

Miss Brownley: Your daughters, Mr. Peck- 
sniff? 

Mr. Pecksniff: Yes. Excuse these tears — 



A Dickens Revival 35 

excuse the sensibility of a father in gazing upon, 
as it were, his offspring. For what is man, and 
why should the spirit of mortal be proud? What 
are we but coaches? Some of us are slow coaches — . 

Charity : Goodness, pa ! 

Mr. Pecksniff: Some of us, I say are slow 
coaches ; some of us are fast coaches ; our passions 
are the horses and rampant animals too — . 

Mercy : Really, pa, how very unpleasant ! 

Mr. Pecksniff : And rampant animals too — and 
virtue is the drag. We start from The Mother's 
Arms and vve run to The Dust Shovel. Oh, my 
friends, oh my dear friends, let us then stop and 
think — what kind of a coach am I? 

Sam Weller: Wot suits you, suits me, as the 
svindler said ven they asked if he'd be shot or hung. 

Mercy : Oh, good gracious mc ! Oh, the hon-id 
tiling ! Oh, go away, v/retch ! Oh, he's smiling at 
me! Oh, oh, oh — . 

Mr. Pecksniff : Mercy, my love, I entreat you 
to be calm! 



36 A Dickens Revival 

Mercy: Make him go away — make him go 
away ! Oh, my goodness gracious ! Oh, pa, dearest 
pa — . 

Mr. Pecksniff : My child ! 

Mercy: Pa, where are you? Where are you, 
pa? \^Mr. Pecksniff sneezes.^ That voice! My 
parent ! 

Mr, Pecksniff : Charity, my child, look after 
your sister. Her feelings, poor angel, have been too 
much for her delicate strength to endure. My 
love — . [Fans her ivith one of Mrs. Jelleby's 
tracts.^ 

Mercy IFaintl;}^^ : Pa ! 

Mr. Pecksniff : She speaks ! She is herself once 
more! 

Mrs. Jarley: Well, all I have to say to that, 
Mr. Pecksniff, is that I much prefer wax-work! 
Never in all my experience, up hill and down dale, 
through the length and breadth of Merry England, 
did I ever have a single wax-work that had a spell. 
And this I add, sir, and call me false if you will, 
that with such goings on and comings up, I might 



A Dickens Revival 37 

as well be running a wulgar Punch and Judy in 
place of Jarlcy's one and only unparalleled collection 
of classical wax-work — which I never thought to do, 
sir, not in the very lowest of my spirits ! But it 
is ever thus — it is ever thus! \^She zc^eeps.^ 

Charity: What? She calls my sister's nerves 
a spell? She makes light of my sister's nerves? 
\^She weeps. ^ Oh dearest sister, I will protect you ! 

Mr. Pickwick : Bless my soul, most extraordi- 
nary ! 

Mercy: Charity, my love, weep not for me! 
l^She weeps.^ Be calm, sister, like me-e-e. 

Mr. Pecksniff : M}' loves, I entreat you — . 

Lavinia [Collapsing on Mr. Sampsons sJioul- 
der^ : George ! 

[The Perryhingle haby now sets up a wail occa- 
sioned hy the circumstance of Miss Slowboy's eager- 
ness to see what is passing causing her to use the 
child as a battering ram to humt Mr. Boffin out of 
the way.^ 



38 A Dickens Revival 

Mr. Boffin : There, there, my good girl — this 
IS a rum go, eh, old lady? 

Mrs. Perrybinglf : Oh, the precious darling ! 
Give it to its mother instantly, Tilly ! Mother's 
little darlin', so it is, bless its eenty-teenty-heartikin ! 
Mercy, Mrs. Jarley, why don't you put a stop to 
this disturbance? I assure you my child never' 
screams ! There, there, the pretty dear ! 

Mrs. Jarley : Oh, yes, yes — blame me ! By all 
means, blame me! Oh, of course, it's all my fault! 
[^Here Tilly Slowhoy gives vent to a prolonged 
howl.^ It's all my fault for leaving wax-works and 
going into humans ! 

[The Pecksniff sisters, finding themselves out- 
classed, gradually subside, and save for sniffs and 
whimpers, the excitement abates.^ 

Mr. Pecksniff : My dear friends, let us-er- 
reflect. What have we here? Naught, my friends, 
but tears, as the poet so well says, idle tears. And 
idleness, my friends, is one of the worst — . 

Mrs. Jarley: And what Miss Brownley thinks 
of the exhibition, I'm sure I can't imagine! 



A Dickens Revival 39 



Miss Brownley: You don't know how much I 
enjoy it, Mrs. Jarley, really ! Do go on and tell 
me who the others are! 

Charity : Yes, Mrs. Jarley, I entreat you ! Pay 
no heed to this foolish emotion — it has passed. 
Pa—. 

Mr. Pecksniff : My child, lean on me ! 

Lavinia : You'll prick yourself again, George. 

Miss Brownley: Do, Mrs. Jarley, please tell me 
who is the pretty baby? 

Mrs. Jarley : To proceed then, ma'am, in spite 
of all — though I repeat I much prefer wax-work as 
being more genteel — I will next present to you Mrs. 
John Perrybingle. 

Mrs. Perrybingle \^Bustlmg out, carrymg the 
hahy^ : And the baby, Mrs. Jarley ! You wouldn't 
leave out the baby, b'ess it, muvver's comfort, so it 
is ! Ain't he beautiful, ma'am — don't he look pre- 
cious in his sleep.'' 

Miss Brownley: Lovely! But tell me, are you 
the little lady they call Dot, and have you a Cricket 
on your Hearth.? 



40 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs, Pereybingle : There now ! John will call 
me that, though I tell him not, and I'm sure I don't 
see why he should. But the cricket — bless you, of 
course we have it, singing right merrily and bring- 
ing us good fortune, I'll be bound. There — the 
duckie dear is sound asleep. Take him, Tilly, and 
be careful you don't ram his head into things 
wooden! This is Tilly Slowboy, ma'am, a faithful 
girl, but she WILL knock his poor head against 
things ! 

Tilly Slowboy [^Carrying the baby back to 
their place in the line.'\ : Did its mothers give it to 
its Tillys then, and did it get its head a-bumped, 
the precious pets, a-sleeping on its backs. [She 
rams Mr. Bofpn.] 

Mr. Boffin: Eh — my good girl! 

Mrs. Jarley: We pass now to the next in our 
unique collection second to none tliough inferior to 
wax- work — Mr. and Mrs. Boffin. 

Mr. Boffin: Evening — evening — evening! 

Miss Brownley: Good evening! I am very 
glad to meet 3"ou. 



A Dickens Revival 41 

Mr. Boffin : Well now, that's 'andsome of you, 
ma'am, aint it, old lady? As the lady says, ma'am, 
my name is Boffin. How do you like it.'^ 

Miss Brownley: A'^ery well, Mr. Boffin. 

Mr Boffin: Hear that, old lady.^ "Wery well." 
And how do you like the name of Nicodemus? 
Nick or Noddy ? That's my name — Noddy Boffin ; 
Noddy — or Nick — Boffin. How do you like it.-^ 

Miss Brownley : It's delightful ! 

Mr. Boffin: Haha — hear that! "Delightful!" 
And this, ma'am — step forrard, old lady — this is 
Mrs. Boffin — Ilenerietty, which her father's name 
was Henery and her mother's name was Ett^', and 
so you have it. Mrs Boffin, ma'am, is a high flier 
at Fashion, and her make is such that she does it 
credit. 

Mrs. Boffin : Now, now. Noddy ! Although I 
tell you what, I do want Societ}' ! 

Mr. Boffin: Fashionable Society, my dear.'' 

Mrs. Boffin [^Laughing and clapping her 
hands. ^: Yes! Lor-a-mussy ! When I think of me 
in a light yellow chariot and pair with silver boxes 
to the wheels — . 



42 A Dickens Revival 

Mr. Pickwick: Astonishing! 

Mrs. Boffin : And with a footman up behind 
with a bar across to keep his legs from being poled ! 
And two bay horses tossing their heads ! And with 
you and me inside leaning back as grand as nine- 
pence — o — oh ! MY ! 

Mr. Boffin : What a thinking steam engein my 
old lady is ! And she don't know how she does it — 
neither does the engein ! 

Mr. Pickwick : Remarkable ! 

Miss Brownley: She is charming, Mr. Boffin, 
and so are you. 

Mr. Boffin: But bless my soul, I was near to 
forgetting — our literary man, my dear. 

Mrs. Boffin : Good and kind and like you, 
dearie ! 

Mr. Boffin : Wegg, step forrard ! You'll ex- 
cuse me, Mrs. Jarley, if I presents him to the lady 
myself .P Miss Brownley, ma'am, Mr. Silas Wegg, 
a literary man WITH a wooden leg — and all print 
is open to him. 



A Dickens Revival 43 

Miss Brownley: Is it really? 

Mr. Wegg: Why, truly, ma'am, I believe you 
couldn't show me the piece of English print that 
I wouldn't be equal to collaring and throwing. 

Mr. Boffin: On the spot? 

Mr. Wegg: On the spot. 

Mr. Pecksniff : And poetry, divinest of the 

Arts? 

Mr. Wegg: Well, as to poetry, it comes dearer, 
sir. 

Mr. Pecksniff : Dearer, my good sir? 

Mr. Wegg: Account of the amount of strain 
upon the intellect. And therefore when I drop into 
poetry, I ask to be considered so fur in the light 
of a friend. 

Miss Brownley: And as we are all friends here, 
won't you — . 

Mr. Boffin: Drop into poetry? Come, Wegg, 
what do you say? In honor of the occasion? 



44 



A Dickens Revival 



Mr. Wegg: Well, if you put it that way, Mr. 

Boffin, I confess I can't refuse; especially as the 

present festal scene reminds me of the touching 
ballad — 

[Mr. Wegg steps to the centre of the stage, 
balances himself impressively on his wooden leg, 
clears his throat, and amid profov/nd attention, thus 
drops into poetry.^ 



No malice to dread, ma'am, 

No falsehood to fear; 

But truth to delight me, Mr. Boffin, 

And I forget what to cheer. 

Li toddle di om-dee, 

And something to guide, 

My ain fireside, ma'am, 

My ain fireside ! 



Before that cottage door, Mr. Boffin, 

A girl was on her knees ; 

She waved aloft a snowy flag, Mr. Boffin — and 

others. 
Which — my eldest brother noticed — fluttered in the 

breeze. 



A Dickens Revival 45 

She breathed a prayer, Mr. Boffin, 

A prayer he could not hear, 

And my eldest brother leaned upon his sword, Mr. 

Boffin, 
And wiped away a tear! 

l^Loud applause. Mr. Wegg hows low in modest 
acknowledgment, and retires.^ 

Mrs. Boffin: Well now, that's a good one. 
Noddy. 

Miss Buownley: Thank you, Mr. Wegg. I 
really never heard anything like that ! 

Sam Weller : Live and learn, ma'am, as the 
old maid said when she rescued the kitten from 
drounding. 

Mrs. Jarley: Next on our program, ladies and 
gentlemen, is a character absolutely unique in the 
annals of the profession — Miss Jenny Wren, the 
dolls' dressmaker. 

Miss Brownley : Oh, I have heard of you, my 
dear ! 

Jenny Wren : I daresay you have. That's 
because my back is bad and my legs are queer. 



46 A Dickens Revival 

Miss Brownley: No, no, indeed! And are you 
really a dolls' dressmaker? 

Jenny Wren: And very difficult they are to fit, 
too, because their figures are so uncertain. You 
never know where to expect their waists. 

Miss Brownley: I hope it's a good business.? 

Jenny Wren: No. Poorly paid. And I'm so 
often pressed for time. I had a doll married last 
week and was obliged to work all night, and it's not 
good for me because my back is bad and my legs 
are queer. 

Miss Brownley: I'm sorry your customers are 
so inconsiderate. 

Jenny Wren: It's the way with them. They 
take no care of their clothes ; and they never keep 
to the same fashions a month. I work for a doll 
with three daughters. Bless you, she's enough to 
ruin her husband. 

Mr. Pickwick : Dear me, how very surprising ! 

Jenny Wren: Oh, you think you wouldn't care 
if YOU were her husband! Hum, I know your 



A Dickens Revival 47 

kind — and I know your tricks and your manners ! 
Here, take my card, sir! \^She hobbles toward him 
and he comes to meet her, takes the card and reads 
aloud^ 

Mr. Pickwick : "Miss Jenny Wren, Dolls' Dress- 
maker, Dolls attended at their own residences." Aston- 
ishing ! But I never use dolls. 

Jenny Wren: Oh, you never play with dolls! 
Oh no — I know you men ! I know your tricks and 
your manners — get along with you, do! Here's a 
doll you'd all like to play with ! [Pointing to Dolly 
Varden.^ 

Dolly Varden : Why, how can you say such a 
thing.'' 

Jenny Wren : Oh, I know their tricks and their 
manners ! Get along with you, do ! 

Miss Brownley: And won't you tell me who 
this young lady is, Mrs Jarley? 

Mrs. Jarley: You've heard of her a thousand 
times, of that I'm sure. Dresses, hats and kerchiefs 
have been named after her — Miss Dolly Varden. 



48 A Dickens Revival 

Dolly Varden [ With a courtesy'] : At your 
service! Though as to compliments, I never could 
abide them. And why they should have been made 
to me, I can not comprehend! It's not my fault 
if people WILL make love to me, you know ! 

Mr. Boffin : That is true, my dear ; but you 
wouldn't say it's their fault either, now would you? 
Eh, old lady? 

Susan Nipper: As no one has asked MY 
opinion, I'm sure I won't inflict it on them, far be 
it from me to force their inclinations, they may draw 
out my two front double teeth, but that's no reason 
why I should offer them the whole set. 

Mrs. Jarley : Indeed ! And who asked you to 
speak without being introduced proper like the oth- 
ers ? It's disgraceful ! If wax-work takes to intro- 
ducing itself, what are we coming to, I should like 
to know? And if you'll do me the kindness, miss, 
to speak when you're spoken to, I'll be obliged to 
you. 

Susan Nipper: I'm much beholden to you, Mrs. 
Jarley, and really feel it as a honor to* receive 
your commands being a black slave and a muleteer. 



A Dickens Revival 49 

Mrs. Jarley, if there's any other orders you can 
give me, pray mention 'em. 

Mu. Boffin : My good girl — . 

Susan Nipper : Oh, as to that, it's not for me 
to say ; and as to being YOUR good girl, save that 
for them as craves affection. As for me, I trust 
and pray I'll always answer to the name of Susan 
Nipper. And you might keep me in a straight 
waistcoat for six weeks, and when I got it off, I'd 
only be more aggravated ! 

Mrs. Jarley: Aggravated .? Do you talk, miss, 
of being AGGRAVATED.? Then I ask you simply 
this — who is master of this exhibition and intro- 
ducing the collection — is it you or is it me? 

Susan Nipper: Oh, bless your heart, Mrs. 
Jarley, I hope I knows my place ! why didn't you 
know that, wherever was you born.? But wherever 
you was born, and whenever, and however, which Is 
best known to yourself, bear in mind, please, that 
it's one thing to give orders and quite another thing 
to take 'em. A person may tell a person to dive 
off a bridge headforemost into five and forty feet 
of water, Mrs. Jarley, but a person may be very 
far indeed from diving. 



so A Dickens Revival 

Miss Brownley: But I'm sure no one meant to 
give you orders, Susan. 

Susan Nipper: That may be as it is, and them 
knows best that gives 'em. I may not be a Indian 
v»idow, and I am not and would not so become, but 
if I once made up my mind to burn myself alive, 
I'd do it ! 

Mr. Pickwick: Astonishing! 

Mr. Toots : Oh, it's of no consequence ! 

Mrs. Jarley: What's that.'* Are you going to 
introduce yourself too? 

Mr. Toots : Oh — oh, I assure you, I had no 
intention at all ! 

Mrs. Jarley: Then what DID you mean when 
you said — as all that's here will bear me witness — 
"It's of no consequence?" 

Mr. Toots: I'm sure I beg your pardon. I'm 
not what is considered a quick sort of person ; I'm 
perfectly aware of that. I don't think anybody 
could be better acquainted with his own — if it was 



A Dickens Revival 51 

not too strong an expression I should say with the 
thickness of his own head ; but as for introducing — . 

Miss Brownley : I'm sure you misunderstood 
the gentleman, Mrs. Jarley. Won't you tell me who 
he is? 

Mrs. Jarley: For your sake, then, and since 
you ask it — though the collection is a disappoint- 
ment to me — I don't mind telling you that this is 
Mr. Toots. 

Mr. Toots [^Embarrassed^ : How d'ye do, Miss 
Brownley.'' I'm very well I thank you, how are 
you.'' lAdvancmg\ very bashful.'\ Er — ^how d'ye 
do, Miss Brownley.'^ I'm very well, I thank you, 
how are you.'* 

Miss Brownley: Thank you — I am very well. 

Mr. Toots : I'm very well ; very well indeed — I 
am. I don't remember that I was ever better, thank 
you! 

Miss Brownley: I'm glad to hear it. 

Mr. Toots: Oh, it's of no consequence. I — I 
don't think I was ever so well as I find myself at 
present, thank you! 



52 A Dickens Revival 

Sam Weller: Veil, veil — as the pussy said ven 
they put her in. 

Mr, Toots : Although I — I'm so in love with 
Miss Dombey, that I'm perfectly sore with loving 
her! 

Mr. Pickwick: Astonishing. 

Me. Pecksniff : Ah, the ladies ! Adorable crea- 
tures ! 

Lavinia: Take care you don't prick yourself, 
George. 

Mr, Toots : I know I am wasting away. Bur- 
gess & Co. — my tailors, fash'nable but very dear — 
have had to alter ray measure I'm in that state of 
thinness ; and if you could see my legs when I take 
my boots off, you'd form some idea what unrequited 
aflFection is, 

Mrs, Boffin : Well now, that's regularly too 
bad, young man ! 

Mr. Toots: Oh, it's of no consequence. I assure 
you I am on the verge of the tomb, but it's of no 
consequence ! 



A Dickens Revival S3 

Mrs. Jarley: Well, all things considered, Mr. 
Toots, I really don't think it is ! 

Mrs. Nickleby t Before I married my poor, dear 
husband, there was a young gentleman who used to 
go to the same dancing school and who WOULD 
send gold watches and bracelets to our house in 
gilt-edged paper and who afterwards unfortunately 
went out to Botany Bay in a cadet ship — a convict 
ship, I mean — and escaped into a bush and killed 
sheep (I don't know how they got there) and was 
going to be hung only he accidentally choked himself 
to death and the government pardoned him. 

Mrs. Jarley: Upon my word and honor, ma'am, 
I must say we are indebted to you for the story of 
your life WITH the particulars ; however — . 

Miss Brownley: My dear Mrs. Jarley, I assure 
you I am in no hurry and I have enjoyed meeting 
every one. But surely there are others coming? 

Mrs. Jarley: Why ask me. Miss Brownley.? 
Me? Why, goodness gracious mercy sakes ! This 
isn't MY collection, and if ever I gets back to 
wax-works, wliich has manners copied exact from 
the nobility and gentry, I — . 



54 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Wilfer {^Impressively^ : Silence ! 

Mr. Boffin: Eh? What's up, old lady? 

The Misses Pecksniff : Oh, Pa ! 

Jenny Wren [^Covering her eyes, with a little 
cry^ : Oh ! 

The Others : Listen ! Hush ! What is it ? Etc. 

\^Outside the patter of feet and childish voices are 
heard. The cliaracters draw hack from the stack 
room door, which is presently opened, and the chil- 
dren appear, talking, dancvng, and laughing.^ 

All: Oh, it's the children — the children — the 
Dickens children ! Come in — come in — come in ! 

[The children dance to centre stage. Sloppy 
hears Tiny Tim on his shoulder; Florence Domhey 
wheels her little brother in an invalid's chair. The 
others, clasping hands, dance around in a circle, 
singing. {Tune, "The Campbells Are Coming.")^ 

Song. 
The children are coming, hurrah! hurrah! 
The children are coming, hurrah ! hurrah ! 
The children are coming to bring you a greeting. 
The children are coming, hurrah! hurrah! 



A Dickens Revival 55 

[^ After the children have sung it once through, 
the others join them, and sing it all through again, 
•with much clapping of hands and beating time with 
feet, and hearty good will, ending in a big cheer at 
the close.^ 

Mrs. Boffin : Oh, the little dears ! 

The Children \_Jumping up and down]^ : Oh, 
isn't it fun? Oh, isn't it fun? 

Mr. Wilfer : Fun to stretch your legs a little, 
eh, my dears? 

The Children : Oh, yes ! 

Mr. Pecksniff : Ah ! Buds of promise ! Gifts 
of God! 

Miss Brownley : And are these the Dickens chil- 
dren ? 

All: Yes — yes! 

Miss Brownley: Oh, I am so glad you came! 

The Children [^With a courtesy}: Thank you, 
ma'am. 



56 A Dickens Revival 

Pip: I'm glad too. [Stretching himself. 1 I've 
been shut up in that old book so long, I'm so stiff 
I can hardly move. 

Paul Dombey: Let's all do that. 

[All the children stand on tip toe and stretch 
their arms above their heads, little Paid lifting his 
arms too, and Sloppy, with a prodigious big laugh, 
holding Tiny Tim high in the air.'\ 

The Children : Oh, what fun — oh, what fun ! 

Miss Browxley: But you all seem so happy. I 
thought the Dickens children were all sad and un- 
fortunate. 

Little Nell [Stepping forward] : Oh, we were ! 
When he wrote of us, we were very, very unhappy, 
as he understood better than any one else. But 
he made other people understand ; and now when we 
look at little children and see how much more they 
are loved and cared for than we were, it makes us 
glad. Doesn't it, children .? 

The Children [Laughing and clapping their 
hands] : Oh, yes, yes — so happy ! 



A Dickens Revival 57 

Miss Brownley: But Mon't you tell me all 
about it? 

Jo : I can tell you, ma'am, nobody better. 'Cause 
I'm Jo, that lived by myself in Tom-All-Alone's, and 
that everybody kept a-telling to "Move on." And I 
did move on, and I kept a-moving on, and I 
never did any thing but move on ever since I was 
born, until there wasn't no place left to move to. 
But now, when they thinks of me, some folks says 
"Come in" to boys like me, and takes care of 'cm 
and gives 'em a place to move to. 

Oliver Twist : And I'm little Oliver Twist, that 
was born and lived in a work house. And please 
ma'am, we hadn't nearl}" enough to eat and I had 
to ask for more. But people have read about me, 
and now there are homes and schools and friends for 
boys and girls left alone. 

Little Dorrit : I'm Little Dorrit, ma'am, that 
lived in a debtor's prison. But there are no such 
places now, and little children are not shut away 
from the out of doors. 

Smike : And I am Smike — you know, Smike, 
ma'am, the drudge of Squeers' school that wasn't a 



58 A Dickens Revival 

school, but a dreadful prison for boys where they 
were beaten and kicked and half starved and never 
learned anything? Oh, when I think of Squeers, 
and the poor boys there, how happy it makes me to 
see the children here come in from school, warm and 
rosy, with their books and slates, and to know that 
I helped to give them such schools. 

Charley: I am Charley, thank you, ma'am — 
Charlotte is my name, but father called me Charley 
before he died. And this is Tom and the baby is 
Emma, and I took care of them when mother died 
too, going out washing and cleaning. I am thirteen, 
and I can almost reach the tub. I had to lock the 
children in the room all day ; but Tom wasn't afraid 
of being locked up, was you, Tom.'' 

Tom: No-o. 

Charley : Of course he wasn't ! And when it 
come on dark, the lamps was lighted down in the 
court, and they shone up almost quite bright, didn't 
they, Tom? 

Tom : Almost. 

Charley: But now little children don't have to 



A Dickens Revival 59 

be locked alone all day, ma'am, and I'm so glad. 
There are nurseries where they can go and play and 
have good food, and oh, I like to think I helped to 
get them for the dears ! 

Little Nell: I am little Nell, ma'am. It was 
gambling made my life so hard for me, as it has 
for many children. My grandfather loved me dearly, 
but he was caught in that strong current and he 
could not stop. But now, good people try to stop 
the gambling, and oh, I hope no other child will 
ever come to die of it, as I did ! 

Little Em'ly: I am little Em'ly, ma'am, and 
lived happy by the sea. But they said I was no 
lady, though I was good and clean, and so they 
made me suffer. But in this country, now, any little 
girl may be a lady who is sweet and good, and that 
makes me so happy. 

Paul Dombey : My name is Dombey — Paul Dom- 
bey, and this is my sister, Florence. We would 
always have been happ}'^, but we were rich, and kept 
away from other boys and girls because of pride. 
Do* you think people are beginning to love children 
now, rich or poor, just because they are children 
and can't help being born? 



60 A Dickens Revival 

Sloppy : Aye, that I do, master ! For look at 
me and these here two httle Minders, Toddles and 
Poddies, we calls 'em, ma'am. All of us was put 
out by the day, to be minded, and we wasn't noth- 
ing to nobody. But bless you, look at such chil- 
dren now, how they're made friends and homes for ! 
Oh, children is thought more of now, and the3''re 
happier than they used to be — we know that, don't 
we, children.? 

The Children [Clappmg their hands^ : Yes, 
yes — oh, yes ! 

Pip: Please ma'am, I was brought up b}^ hand, 
and I don't like to be brought up by hand. I 
think it's better to be brought up by heart and by 
head. 

Tiny Tim : I am Tiny Tim, and have to walk 
with a crutch. But lots of little children now, like 
me, are kept strong and well, and lots are cured by 
good doctors and good mothers and sometime maybe 
they'll all be w^ell, and can run about and play. 

The Childeen : The3''ll all be well and happy 
— all the children in the world! 



A Dickens Revival 61 

Miss Brownley: Oh, my dear children, I'm so 
glad to know you all ! And when I see happy, rosy 
boys and girls, I'll think of you and know you 
helped to make them so. Goodbye ! 

The Children : Good-bye — goodbye ! [ They 
turn toward the door, but as they go, they see the 
Dolls' Dressmaker, xvith her arm across her eyes.^ 
Won't you come with us, Jenny Wren? Come and 
play with us ! 

Jenny Wren : No, no, no ! Get along — get 
along! I can't play with children — I can't play at 
all. I belong with the grown-ups. Get along. 

Tiny Tim \^Leaning dotvn from his perch^ : But 
you'll come with ME, Jenny Wren ! Won't you 
come with me? 

Jenny Wren \Takmg his hand with a happy 
looh^ : Oh, m}'^ blessed child ! Yes, yes — take me 
with you, take me with you ! 

The Children : Come along, Jenny Wren — 
come with us. Good-bye — good-bye ! 

All : Good-bye, good-bye, dear children ! 



62 A Dickens Revival 

[The children run away, still laughing and call- 
ing. Sloppy, Jenny Wren and Tiny Tim last of all, 
and as he reaches the door. Tiny Tim holds out his 
little arms and cries, ^'Good-bye! God bless us every 
one.'"] 

Miss Brownley: Oh, Mrs. Jarley, surely this 
is not all who are coming. There must be many 
more in this delightful world of people, and I should 
like to know them all. 

Mrs. Jarley: Well, as I told 3'ou, ma'am, 
"David Copperfield" is out, and the Copperfield 
people might be a little late. 

Miss Brownley: But they will surely come.'' 

Mr. Pickwick : Oh, surely, surely ! Surprising 
thing they're being late — strange, very. Sam — . 

Sam Weller : Sam it is, sir ! 

Mr. Pickwick: Just step to the door and cast 
your eye along the way and let us know when our 
friends approach, will you.'' 

Sam Weller: The hinstant they 'eave in sight 
I'll tip you the wink, sir ! [He goes to the door.] 



A Dickens Revival 63 

Mrs. Jarley: Ah — ^there's some folks as has 
their servants to wait on 'em right down to the 
ground; and there's others of us as can't get recog- 
nition proper not even from our e-kalls. 

Sam Weller: (at the door shouting) Horoar! 
[He turns to Mr. Pickwick, winking violently .'\ 

All: What is it? Are they coming? Etc. 

Mr. Pickwick : Sam, you rediculous fellow — . 

Mrs. Wilfer : The male domestic of Mr. Pick- 
wick is — winking. 

Sam Weller : Right you are, ma'am — right as 
a shot. Vinking, you know, sir — vinking. Didn't 
I tell you I'd tip you the vink? 

Mrs. Jarley: Do you mean the Copperfield peo- 
ple are coming? 

Sam Weller: Coming? They're here ! Horoar! 

All: Oh, yes, yes — here they are, here they are! 
Etc. [^David Copper-field and Dora, Uriah Heep, 
Peggoty and Barkis enter and advance to centre 
stage. ^ Hurry up — hurry up! You are late! 



64 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Jakley: Miss Brownley, ma'am — well 
known characters from David Copperfield — Mr. Cop- 
perfield himself, Dora his wife (the dog you sec en 
the right is Jip), Uriah Heep, and Peggoty and 
Barkis. \_They fcow.] 

Miss Brownley : I am so glad you came in time 
and am delighted to meet you. But are there not 
others from your delightful book? 

Dora: You tell her, Doady. Jip, be quiet. 

David Copperfield: My friend Traddles and 
Mr. and Mrs. Micawber started out with us and I 
assure you I expected to see them here before us. 
I daresay they will be along shortly. 

Uriah Heep : Oh, indeed you must excuse me. 
Master Copperfield. I am much too umble to dis- 
pute the word of a gentleman so far above me — 
much too umble — . 

Mrs. Jarley l^Sharply'\ : What do you mean, 
you rediculous creature? Aren't they coming along? 

David Copperfield: I think he means that just 
as we started someone came up to Mr. Micawber and 
stopped him ; so the three were delayed. But I am 
quite sure not for long. 



A Dickens Revival 65 

Uriah Heep : Oh, thank you, Master Copper- 
field. You said it so much better than I could do, 
being so umble. Umble I am, umble I have been, 
and umble I shall ever be. Thank you, Master Cop- 
perfield. 

Dora: Oh, don't, please! I'm so frightened! 

David Copperfield : Frightened, my own ? 

Dora: Oh, yes. I don't like him. Why don't 
he go away.? 

David Copperfield: Who, my love? 

Dora : That man. He frightens Jip. Look, 
Doady, how he frightens Jip. 

David Copperfield : But, my dear, you are un- 
reasonable. 

Dora : There ! Now you're going to be cross ! 

David Copperfield: Cross, my love.? As if I 
would or could be cross to you for the world. 

Dora: Then don't find fault with me and I'll be 
good. Sec Jip stand on just two legs, Doady ! 

Miss Brownley: And these others you said were 
Peggoty and Barkis,? 



66 A Dickens Revival 

Mrs. Jarlky: What you hanging back for, 
Peggoty? Step up and speak to the lady. 

Peggoty: Thank you kindly, ma'am. I hope I 
see you well.'' I'm not what you would call azackly 
sick myself. Barkis, man ! Lawk, won't you speak 
the lady friendly.'' 

Barkis [Touchmg his forelock'\ : Barkis is will- 
in'. 

[Traddles enters vn great excitement, his aston- 
ished expression more marked than ever, waving a 
letter.'] 

TuADDLEs: Copperfield — where are you? Upon 
my soul, Copperfield, this is positively — . 

All: Oh, what is it? What is the matter? Etc. 

David Copperfield : My dear Traddles — . 

Traddles : Positively, Copperfield, this is awful ! 

All: But what — wliat? Tell us! 

Traddles : The letter, you know ! It's alarm- 
ing — really. 

All: A letter! 



A Dickens Revival 67 

Dolly Varden: From whom? 

Traddles : Read it, Coppei*field, do ! I am posi- 
tively in that state of alarm ! 

Charity Pecksniff : Yes, if you have a spark 
of pity in your breast, read ! 

Lavinia : Hum ! Pity ! If anyone was to have 
a little sense now ! 

Dora: Oh, Doady, how can you frighten me so! 

David Copperfield [TF/io Juis been glancing 
through the letter, holding up his hand for silence^ : 
Listen! [He reads,^ '*My dear young Friend: The 
die is cast; all is over. Hiding the ravages of care 
under a sickly mask of mirth, I set out with the 
others for the scenes of festivity and delight in 
which you are even now, I doubt not, revelling. 
But the slight pecuniary liability which hung over 
the volume — in short, the fine — ." 

Miss Brownley: The fine! Four cents is due 
on "David Copperfield !" 

All: 0-o-h! 



68 A Dickens Revival 

David Coppekfield: "has overtaken me in a 
manner alike humiliating to endure, humiliating to 
contemplate, and humiliating to relate. The result 
is destruction. The bolt is impending, and the tree 
must fall." 

Mrs. Jarley: The bolt? 

Mrs. Nickleby: The tree.? 

Mrs. Boffin: Whatever does the man mean? 

Susan Nipper: If anybody was to listen now — . 

Mr. Pecksniff: Allegory, madame — figures of 
speech — ^the embroidery of language — . 

Miss Brownley: But who is the unfortunate 
man — . 

Mrs. Wilfer : Silence ! 

David Copperfield [^ReadingJ : "Let tlie 
wretched man wlio now addresses you be a beacon t ) 
you through life. Kg writes with that intention 
and in that hope. If he could think himself of jo 
much use, one ray of light might by possibility 



A Dickens Revival 69 

penetrate the cheerless dungeon of his remaining 
existence; though his longevity is at present (to 
say the least of it) extremely problematical. 

"This is the last epistolatory communication you 
will ever receive. 
From 

The 

Beggared Outcast, 

Wilkins Micawber." 

All: Mr. Micawber! 

Traddles : Positively, Copperfield, this is — is 
awful, you know ! 

Mr. Eoffin : This IS a rum go, eh, old lady.'' 

Peggoty: You don't think, do you, David, that 
he was thinking any of pistols.'' 

All: Pistols! 

The Ladies: 0-o-h! 

Traddles: Pistols.? God bless my soul, what- 
ever made you think of pistols? 

Mrs. Jarley \^Screaming^ : I see it all ! I see 
it all ! For what does he say ? "This is the last 
EPISTOLATORY communication"— 0-o-oh ! 



70 A Dickens Revival 

Mercy : Oh, save him, save him ! Oh, Pa ! 

Mr. Pecksniff: My child, your tender h^art! 

Lavinia : George, don't leave me ! 

Mr. Toots : Oh, it's of no consequence — I'm 
sure it means suicide but it's of no consequence — . 

All : Suicide ? 0-o-h ! 

Peggoty: Listen! David, isn't that his voice.? 

[All listen intently, horror-struck. A most jovial 
song is heard off-stage, caroled in a rich and throaty 
voice with every sound of heartiness and delight. 
The characters on the stage draw back from the door. 
In the clear space thus left, appears Mr. Micawber, 
his hat very much on one side, his cane tucked gen- 
teelly under one arm, his face glowing with spirit.'] 

Mr. Micawber : My friends, congratulate me ! 
Something has turned up ! 

All: Mr. Micawber — Mr. Micawber! 

[There are cries of delight and relief, clapping 
of hands, and much joy, to which Mr. Micawber 
responds with his best bows.] 



A Dickens Revival 71 

The Misses Pecksniff : He lives — he lives ! 

Sam Weller: Horoar! 

Mrs. Wilfer: Back from the tomb! 

Mr. Pickwick : Extraordinary ! 

Mr. Micawber: My dear friends, this meeting 
occasions me feelings of the — in short, how do 
you do? 

Mrs. Jarley: Yes, and didn't you give us a 
turn! 

Mr. Micawber: A turn, madame.? A — but 
good heavens, what is this.? 

[^ wail is heard outside, increasing in volume 
and rising in pitch. Consternation once more.^ 

Mrs. Micawber {^Outside. ^ : I never will desert 
Mr. Micawber! I never — I never will do it! 

Mr. Micawber [^Much affected.^ : It is Emma — • 
it is Mrs. Micawber ! 

Mrs. Micawber [Still outside.^ : Mr. Micawber 
has his faults — I do not deny them — but I never, 
I NEVER will desert Mr. Micawber! 



72 A Dickens Revival 

[^She enters, hysterical. Her husband rushes to 
meet her~\ 

Mr. Micawber: Emma, my angel, what is the 
matter? 

Mrs. Micawber: I never will desert you, Micaw- 
ber! 

Mr. Micawber: My life, I am aware of it! 

Mrs. Micawber [^Screaming^ : He is the parent 
of the children ! He is the father of the twins ! He 
is the husband of my affections — and I ne-ver will 
desert Mr. Micawber! [She falls into his arms.l^ 

Mrs. Boffin : There, there dearie ! Who is ask- 
ing you to, you know ! 

Mrs. Jareey : Well, I'm sure ! For wax-work 
to act like this — . 

Mrs. Perrybingle: Your words do you credit! 
No more wovild I desert John ! 

Mr. Micawber: Emma, m}' love, have you re- 
covered ? 

Mrs. Micawber : Yes, Wilkins — forgive me ! 



A Dickens Revival 73 

Mb. Micawbeb: Then let us withdraw from the 
scene that others may taste the joys we may not 
share. 

All, [^Crowding around them.^: No, no! Don't 
go! You must stay! Etc. 

Miss Brownley: Mr. MIcawber, please do not 
go! At least until I have thanked you all for com- 
ing ; and before we part let me assure you — . 

Mr. Micawber : One moment ! My friends, I 
feel that the time is ripe for revealing to you that 
I have, in anticipation of this — this crisis, caused 
to be prepared in a public house not far distant a 
compound of a convivial nature which will — in short, 
a bowl of punch ! 

All: Punch! 

Sam Weller : Horoar ! 

Mr. Micawber: And if someone will immediately 
convey it hither — . 

Barkis : Barkis is willin'. 

\^He goes out. Everyone cheers, and at once all 
is activity. Copperfeld and Traddles drag the small 



74 A Dickens Revival 

table to centre stage. Peg got y and Susan Nipper 
go out and presently return with two huge trays 
piled with small glasses. The others gather around 
in groups, talking.^ 

Mrs. Peurybingle ^To Tillyl : Take the baby 
in the corner directly, Tilly, or you'll be sure to drop 
it into the punch bowl ! 

Mr. Pickwick \_To Silas Wegg^ : Do you con- 
sider punch good for a literary man, sir? 

Mr. Wegg: Aye — nothink better. It mellers the 
organ. \^Totichvng his throat.^ 

Sairey Gamp: but when it comes to bowls 

of punch social like among friends, I breaks my 
rules and does sometimes indulge. 

Mr. Wilfer: I hope, my dear, you will enjoy 
the punch? 

Mrs. Wilfer: If you wish it, R. W. certainly. 
At any rate, I shall smile. 

Sam Weller: Horoar! Here comes the punch! 

\_Barh:is enters with a bowl of punch in which is 
a substantial ladle. All cheer. ^ 



A Dickens Revival 75 

Mr. Micawbeh [^Taking his place behind the 
small table. ^ : Bring it here, my good fellow, bring 
it here, my friend ! Come, let us gather round, as 
it were, the flowing bowl ! 

l^Sam Weller, Saircy Gamp, and Silas Wegg, re- 
ceiving their punch first, retire to the right of stage 
and forming a lime, sing lustily to the rythmic 
thumping of the literary mans ivooden leg — ] 



Gee up, Dobbin, 
Gee up, Dobbin, 
Gee up, Dobbin, 
Gee up, and gee ho-o-o! 



[All the characters, each with his glass, place 
themselves so that Mr. Micawber and the punch howl 
are in the center; Miss Brownley still behind her 
desk; Mrs Jarley to the right of Micawber. '[ 

Mr. Micawber: My friends, before we partake 
of the contents of the flowing bowl, let us propose 
— in short — . 

All: a toast — a toast! 

Miss Brownley: And let me give it! 



76 A Dickens Revival 

All. : Hooray ! 

Miss Brownley: To the Dickens people, and 
may their name and fame never grow old! 

All : Hooray — hooray ! 

Mrs. Jarley: And I have a toast — the best of 
all! 

All: Hooray! 

Mrs. Jarley : Up with the glasses ! A toast to 
the man who made us — . 

All : Hooray ! 

Mrs. Jarley: Don't drink it yet! — to the man 
who thought us out and wrote us up, to the man 
who understood and loved us — . 

All : Hooray ! 

Mrs. Jarley : Not yet ! — to the man we love and 
honor, we and hundreds of others not with us to- 
night! Oh, lift ji-our glasses high, and drink — and 
drink — to Charles Dickens ! 



A Dickens Revival 11 

All : To Charles Dickens ! Hooray, hooray, and 
a hip-hooray ! 

YThe toast is drunk amid the greatest excitement 
■ — the baby yells, the dog howls, the xvooden leg 
thiimps, and all together give another rousing cheer, 
•which gradually grows fainter and fainter as the 
curt aim, falls.^ 

\_It rises again, almost immediately. The stage 
is exactly as first seen — empty, save for Miss Brown- 
ley sleeping at her desk, and a boy in a waterproof 
coat and hat with a dripping umbrella, who pounds 
on the desk and calls lustily.^ 

The Boy : Hey — I say, wake up ! Wake up ! 
This is a nice way to run a library ! Wake up ! 

Miss Brownley \^Starting suddenly out of her 
sleep.^: Oh, don't go — don't go — OH! \^She stares 
vacantly around the empty room.^ 

The Boy: That's right! I been pounding on 
this desk for five minutes enough to wake the dead! 
I brought back the book I had out, and here's four 
cents I owe on it. 



78 A Dickens Revival 

[He piits the book and the coppers on the desk, 
picks up his umbrella, and starts off, whistling shrilly 
through his teeth. Miss Brownley stops him at the 
door.^ 

Miss Brownley : Just a moment ! What book 
did you have out? 

The Boy: "David Copperfield." \^Exit.'\ 

[The librarian picks up the book, looks at it 
with wonder, and presses it to her breast.^ 

Miss Brownley : A dream ! 

The Curtain Falls. 



